Some Things Don't Stay Buried
by teenagejustice
Summary: Robin's sister dies on a mission with him and Batman. Five years later, Jason Todd has come and gone, and Tim Drake is the new Robin. When a duo of daring criminals starts to interfere with missions, the Team must dive into the past and figure out who they are. Slight Dick/Babs, Jason/OC. Rated for Jason's mouth.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone in the DC universe. If I did, Jason Todd would be in YJ Invasion and every episode would be Bat-centric.**_

_**A/N: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for being patient with me, I've had a lot to do with packing for summer camp and all that other goodness. This first chapter will be set in Season 1, and all the following ones will be set in Season 2. I hope y'all enjoy this!**_

* * *

Dick didn't make it to his bedroom and honestly, he couldn't move if he wanted to.

The young protégé curled up against the wall, drawing his legs up to his chest. He had changed out of his Robin suit, but he hadn't bothered to shower before coming upstairs. His crimson hands shook as tears leaked from his eyes as etched a path through his grime and soot covered face. His shoulders jerked with silent sobs as he rested his forehead against his knees. His trembling fingers numbly searched his pocket for his phone, which he always had on him. Alfred and Bruce were both down in the Cave; they wouldn't be able to hear him no matter how loud he called for them. He hit speed dial and listened to the soft ringing, the tones gentle on his ears that had so recently been ringing with sirens and his sister's screams. After three rings a familiar, warm voice gushed in his ear. "Hey Rob, where are you? Did you forget it was movie night again?"

"Wally." The ebony winced at how hollow his own voice sounded.

The redhead on the other end picked up on it too. "Rob? Are you all right? You sound weird."

"It… I… no, I'm not." Fresh tears started. "Can… can you come by? I'm at the Manor."

"Yeah, of course I can." The acrobat heard movement and Wally making excuses to the others in the background before there was a rushing sound, then zeta-tubes warming up. "Seriously Dickie, is everything okay?"

"P-Please, Walls… I-I can't…"

"Okay Dick, it's okay. I'm on my way, give me five minutes."

The teen nodded even though he knew Wally couldn't see. He hung up and dropped the phone on the smooth hardwood floor. He set his head back back on his knees, drops falling from his eyes and onto his dark blue jeans. He ignored it when his phone buzzed on the floor as it was bombarded with texts from Artemis, Kaldur, Connor, and M'gann, all asking where Wally went in such a hurry and, when he didn't respond, if he was okay. For a while there was no sound except his quite whimpers and the occasional vibrating of the phone. Soon though he heard the dull creak of the oak doors opening as Wally let himself in, then the soft patter of the redhead's feet as he made his way up the stairs. "Dickie-bird?" He called gently.

The speedster heard a soft noise and looked down the hallway to see Dick curled up with his back pressed against the wall, sitting just beyond the light from the full moon streaming in through the window. Wally went to the other side of the hall and sat next to the bird, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Dick?"

Said acrobat didn't speak, but raised his face to see his friend, or his brother more like it. His skin was cold, goosebumps rising at the feel of Wally's warm touch. His face was streaked with dirt and soot, tears mingling in with the rest. The redhead gently wiped away the moisture. "Dickie, what's wrong?" Green eyes flitted around the dark room. Shouldn't his sister be here? "Where's Ti-"

Another whimper at the start of her name cut him off. The younger leaned on the him, sniffling. The ginger didn't say a word, just set a hand on Dick's head and ran his fingers through the raven hair. He was surprised when he heard the other's voice, quite and shaky.

"I- I didn't even t-try, Wally. I just s-sat there and w-watched, didn't even t-try. I-I could have t-taken it, could have t-tried to do s-something, b-but I didn't. I-I just…"

Then Wally noticed the rope burns on the Boy Wonder's wrists, and the blood still dripping off his fingers. He felt moisture beginning in his own eyes, and he hugged his little brother close as the ebony's tears started again, this time his cries coming much louder.

The ginger stroked the other teen's hair. "Ssh Dickie, it's okay. It's okay."

* * *

This had been the longest night in Bruce Wayne's life.

The billionaire barely felt it when his faithful butler stuck the needle in his shoulder again, stitching up a slash from a scythe. His son was already upstairs and hopefully in his room, nodding off to sleep, but Bruce knew that wasn't true. Even if the child had drifted off, he had most likely been woken up by now by a nightmare. He wanted to be up there so bad, holding his child, telling him it would be okay. But Alfred had insisted that his own wounds be taken care of before he left the Cave, and nothing would persuade him otherwise.

The Dark Knight tried to keep his gaze off his gloves and pants, but found it impossible. His daughter's blood stained the fabric, barely noticeable on the black of his gloves, but there none the less. Dick had had even more on him, but had changed into clean clothes, though as far as he knew the younger boy hadn't showered. He probably still had blood on him.

Bruce sighed and put his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his laced fingers. He closed his eyes, his daughter's pleas echoing in his ears and reverberating in his skull.

_Daddy, help me!_

A clearing of a throat made him open his cobalt eyes again to see Alfred holding out some clean clothes. Bruce took them wordlessly, but shot his butler a silent thank you. The old Englishman smiled in response and set about cleaning up while his charge changed and went up the stairs, avoiding looking at the med-bay.

When he exited the Batcave via grandfather clock he could hear his ward crying, sobs echoing through the vast empty house that had just that morning been filled with the laughter of both his children. He climbed the stairs to the hall that lead to Dick's bedroom, and now that he was closer he could hear words mingled in with the tears- some in Romanian, clearly from his son, and others in English from someone else.

When he reached the hall he saw Dick against the wall, and Wally was next to him. Dick must've called him. The younger was sobbing into the redhead's bright yellow shirt. The older teen held him and rubbed his back, telling him it was okay while tears were leaking from his own green eyes.

Bruce silently walked toward both boys and knelt in front of them, drawing their attention. He wordlessly pulled both into his arms, hugging them to his chest, Dick was crying even more profusely, muttering incoherent words in Romanian. Wally seemed surprised that Bruce was actually hugging him, but leaned into the embrace none the less. She had been a sister to him too, just like Dick was his brother.

The three were just like that when Alfred found them the next morning. Wally stayed at the Manor for about a week, and neither went on missions with either the team or their mentors. It would take a while to heal, but they eventually did, and buried the scars under less painful things, all the while praying that they would remain wounds that were never reopened.

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_**A/N: Hopefully I did a good job with this first chapter, with some brotherly fluff and some Bruce acting like a father to both fluff. Remember this is only the first chapter, so there will be more. It will, however, be a little while because I have summer camp and while I can write, I can't upload, so I'll have another chapter for you when I get back. In the meantime, please, please REVIEW!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone in the DC Universe._**

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_Robin's body smacked against the cold, ungiving brick wall of the smoggy alley he had been flung into. His head lolled down to his chest, unconsciousness threatening to take him, but he snapped back to alertness at a sharp cry of pain from his sister. She was being dragged by the cape, her tired body screaming protests and refusing to move in the way she wanted it to. The jagged rocks pebbling the ground sliced into her already blood coated arms, grains of silt and dirt worming into the wounds and making them sting like mad. Thick tendrils of dark crimson shot out from wounds on her chest like roots from the mother tree, staining the neckline of her costume and dribbling down to her now bare midriff. One of her knees was completely shattered, the younger only noticing because white shards of bone stuck out of her skin like thick needles piercing a creamy colored canvas. Their captor hurled her into the wall next to the young vigilante, her body hitting with a resounding smack. She was yanked roughly from the wall before she could fall and slammed into the cold hard ground like she was a rag doll to be torn to shreds by the dogs. Robin tried hard not to look at the scarlet patch on the filthy wall where she had just been, or the garnet liquid pooling under her head and staining her hair. A coal black shoe caught under her ribs, steadily pushing up until the bones snapped like pencils in the grip of an angry writer. A long, drawn out scream of agony echoed off the walls of the dingy alley, and the figure backed off, pleased with his work while she gasped for breath. Another man, this one shorter and thinner, appeared behind the first. "You've had your turn with her. Now give me mine."_

_A flashing silver coin flew into the air and was caught in a waiting palm, then flipped onto the back of the bearers other hand. _

_He glanced at it, then at his waiting partner. "She's all yours."_

_The second man grinned sadistically and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a syringe of greenish clear liquid and, kneeling next to the still gasping girl, emptied the serum into one of the veins in her arm. He watched her eyes slowly flutter closed and stood, brushing off his dusty brown pants. _

_"That's it?" His companion asked._

_"Watch."_

_And they did. For a short time everything seemed normal, but before long her eyebrows scrunched together, pained expressions crossing her face and struggling with invisible bonds. She started muttering incoherent words, some clearly in English, some not._

_Before long the screaming started._

_The younger boy swore he had never heard any sound that was quite so utterly destroying. The high shrieks bounced off the high walls, ringing in his ears like the deep knell of church bells. She sounded absolutely tortured. She was thrashing on the dirty alley floor, her head snapping from side to side. She was going to have a nasty case of whiplash when she woke up. If she woke up. Her screams echoed throughout the alleyway. _

_"No, don't! Please don't do it! Please! Please don't leave me here alone again! No!"_

_Something changed. A new look flitted across her face, one of pure horror. She switched to her second language._

_"Dickie-pasăre? Dickie, ai pus că în jos chiar acum. Aceasta nu este amuzant fratele mai mic. Pune-l jos acum!" _'Dickie-bird? Dickie, you put that down right now. This isn't funny little brother. Put it down now!'

_The ebony realized what was happening. She was seeing him in her fathers place. She was seeing him kneeling in the middle of her bedroom pressing a knife to his wrists, a small puddle of blood collecting around his knees. _

_Another bout of desperate screams came around as the first conspirator pulled out a small pistol."This is all well and good, but let's end this." He pointed the gun at his sister and pulled the trigger. Her eyes snapped open, the visions ending as blood spurted like a sick rendition of a fountain from a hole in her abdomen._

Dick Grayson shot straight up, a scream dying in his throat. Nightmare. It was a nightmare.

The acrobat dropped his head into his hands, resting his elbows on his knees. Why did his mind have to take his most twisted, horrifying memories and continue to haunt him with them? Why was he tortured like this? His parents, his sister, they were all killed right before his eyes. All the things he wanted most bury just kept coming back like they were rising from the dead.

He couldn't stay in his room anymore. He needed to be near something living, something concrete. He silently threw off the covers and slipped into the hallway. He padded through the abandoned halls until he reached Tim's room. Bruce was off world on a league mission, and Alfred was out of the country, so Tim was staying with Dick at the mountain. The older quietly entered he room, treading carefully so as not to wake the sleeping boy before him. He slid under the covers next to the slumbering child. Tim snuggled up against his brother, surprising him, but the older boy didn't resist. He liked the contact, enjoyed the feel of his little brother warm, _alive_ under his touch. He was so much like Jason…

Dick nuzzled his face into the back of Tim's head, breathing in the scent of his hair. His mind wandered back to his nightmare, to the terrors of the actual night. He still blamed himself, no matter what was said. Bruce, Alfred, the League, the Team, even she as she was dying told him it wasn't his fault. He was tied up, he tried everything possible, blah blah blah, but the fact of the matter was that he hadn't been good enough. He hadn't reacted fast enough. He sat in complete shock while his sister was beaten and tortured right in front of him. He recovered his wits too slow, to where all he could do was try to save her, and he couldn't even do that. Bruce trained him better than that. The bottom line was he wasn't good enough, and it cost her her life.

The acrobat was so caught up in his own thought that he didn't notice that Tim was waking up next to him, yawning like a giant cat. When the younger saw who he was snuggling with he nestled a little closer. "Nightmare?"

Dick ran his fingers through his little brother's hair. "Yeah."

"Which one?"

"Her."

Tim brought the blankets closer around them. The older of the duo had been having this particular nightmare a lot since becoming leader. Between Dick's dreams and his own, they saw a lot of each other at night. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He felt Dick shudder. "No, not really."

The third Robin shifted so they were both cocooned in the blankets. "Could… could you tell me a story about her?"

Dick smiled. "Sure kiddo. How about when she first met Wally?"

* * *

_"Hurry up Wally! Alfred has cookies in the oven!"_

_"Hold up dude! I gotta find my jacket, I left it last time I was here!"_

_"Well hurry up, or the cookies will be all gone!"_

_"No fair!" The speedster raced through the Manor searching for his lost jacket. The search took him about five minutes (yes, the Manor was just that big), but when he found it he ran back toward the kitchen. He slowed down as he it closer and closer, and by the time he was at the door he was at normal speed. Voices floated through the door, but the red head payed no attention to them and entered the room._

_He slammed into someone else and both thudded to the floor. Wally's head smacked against the doorframe, making the teen see double. Instantly there were hands grabbing his arm and helping him up. "Oh my God I am so sorry!" A voice he had never heard before said. "Are you okay?"_

_"Ow. Yeah, just give me a minute." He was lead to a chair at the kitchen bar and he rested his aching head on the cool granite counter. When his eyesight returned to normal he looked up, and was met with a girl. So, being a Flash, we can all guess where his mind went. He stood up and brushed off his shirt._

_"You good?" She asked._

_Wally leaned against the counter, trying to act cool. "I'm even better now that your here, angel."_

_The next thing he knew he was lying on his back on the floor. There was a dull stinging in the back of his head where it has made contact with the floor. The girl was squatting in front of him with a straight leg out to the side._

_The signature cackle he knew so well rang out as she stood. Dock jumped on top of the counter and from there leaped to the girl's shoulders. "Dude, you just got owned!"_

_Wally rubbed his head. "Uh, hurt so good?"_

_Dick laughed again. "You should know by now never to try to flirt with one us Bats."_

_"Us Bats?" Wally asked as he pushed himself to his feet._

_Dick scrambled down and leaned casually on the girl. "Yep. Walls, I'd like you to meet my big sister."_

* * *

Nightwing glanced at the child snuggled up against him. Tim was fast asleep, he chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. Dick smiled and gently kissed the boy's temple. "Night, Timmy." He whispered. The former Boy Wonder pulled the blankets closer and closed his eyes, drifting off the dreamland.

Needless to say there were no more nightmares that night.

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**_A/N: Hey! Sorry it's taken so long, but I've been busy unpacking and the other day I had a stomach bug, but here's the second chapter. Sort of fillerish, but I wanted you guys to get a brief glimpse of how Robin's sister died and what she was like. I will tell you her name soon, and I'll bring the rest of the characters in soon too. Please leave a review!_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Wohoo, chapter three! I hope you guys enjoy this. I just want to take a second to respond to guest reviewers.**_

_**Nightingale: Thank's for reviewing! Believe me, that wasn't even the worst of how she died. It only gets worse after that point and she was in way over her head before. I let a friend read the first draft, which had much more graphic details and much more brutality, and it didn't really agree with her stomach, so I toned it down. More brotherly fluff will come, and there will be Jay-bird fluff! I'll keep that a surprise.**_

_**Roselynn: I'm glad you liked chapter! The first chapter takes place after Coldhearted, so Wally is sixteen. Robin's sister dies the day of her sixteenth birthday. Wally views her as a little sister, even though she's only a little younger than him.**_

_**Enjoy the chapter!**_

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"Robin, Wasp, and Blue Beetle, report for mission."

The three young heroes ears pricked up as their leader's voice came over the intercoms. They dropped their training routines and changed into their uniforms, which were waiting for them in their respective lockers. They quickly made their way to the briefing room, where Nightwing was typing on a holo-keyboard. They sat in the chairs around the metal table and waited silently as the former Robin pulled up a holo-screen. Several mugshot flickered into existence on the blue screen. "Alpha Squad," the vigilante said, leaning on the cool steel of the table, "last week one of Intergang's top operatives, Ugly, was broken out of police custody during transport. Resources have indicated that he was broken out for a reason, and recent evidence has confirmed that Intergang is receiving a shipment of alien firearms tonight. It is clear that Ugly was sprung from jail to protect the transaction from any outside parties. Your mission; take down Ugly and his gang, retrieve the guns, and find out who is shipping alien tech. Everyone clear?"

The trio of teens nodded, and Nightwing closed the screen. "Robin you'll be leading. Take the bioship- you leave in thirty minutes."

They rose and sprinted out of the room to get ready, but Nightwing called, "Tim."

Robin stopped short in the doorway and turn to his older brother, waiting expectantly. Dick cleared his throat before continuing. "About last night…"

Tim felt himself tense up. Usually after one of their nighttime meetings they didn't bring it up, like it never happened. They rarely spoke about it, and only in a passing reference. What made Dick actively bring it up now? Did he do something wrong? Did he say the wrong thing?

However, Dick smiled at him. "Thanks. I needed that."

Tim grinned straight back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Anytime Dick." The blue and black clad vigilante nodded, and Robin sprinted out of the room to rejoin the squad. Dick peeled his mask off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sleeping in Tim's room last night had helped, but he just couldn't get the images to leave, couldn't get his sisters screams out of his ears. Things like that made him reluctant to send Tim on missions and out from under his gaze. But Tim was a big boy; he could take care of himself. Nothing would happen to him.

* * *

Robin looked up at his squad from his binoculars. Wasp was changing herself into all different sizes, and Blue Beetle was absent mindedly making the arms of his costume into different weapons. _'Can't really blame them.'_ Tim thought to himself. _'Stakeouts are pretty boring.'_

Movement on the street below caught his attention, and he raised the binoculars to his masked eyes. "Look sharp. We've got movement down below." Wasp and Blue Beetle came to stand next to him. Looks like our target." The current Boy Wonder said.

"Sorry kiddies," a smooth feminine voice said. "This one's taken. You're more than welcome to be our practice round though." Four little grey balls rolled into the middle of the room and spurted thick grey smoke. With his eyesight gone, Robin turned to his sense of hearing. He could hear his squad members groaning with strain and blows meeting flesh. He heard a couple of grunts that didn't come from either team member. He heard a sound like his own bo staff extending, and another like a gun being unholstered. Two loud cracks sounded, followed by two thumps, like bodies hitting the ground. Tim extended his own bo staff and spun in a slow circle, listening and looking as far as he could see in the thick smog. Out of nowhere a long metal rod came out of the smoke, and Tim raised his bo. He blocked the blow and swung, but his staff didn't touch anything. Suddenly he was spun around by the shoulders, and a hard punch met his jaw. A knee slammed into his gut, and someone grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed his head into their own. Tim stumbled back, his head pounding and vision spinning, and his legs were kicked out from under him. He landed on his stomach, and almost instantly there was a knee on his back holding him down, and his head was being yanked back by a fist full of his hair. A coolness on his throat told him that there was a knife there. "Well, if it isn't the Replacment." A gruff, male voice hissed in his ear.

"Leave him." The female voice from before said.

The man growled, a deep, throaty sound, and she spoke again, slightly sharper this time. "I said leave him. Our target is right here, and I can't move in until you're in position. There will be a time for that later."

He hissed again and smacked Tim's head against the hardwood floor before moving off the teenager. The Boy Wonder could hear him moving, a window opening, and someone firing off a grappling hook and swinging off. The first voice spoke again. "Robin."

Tim used his last bit of strength to lift his head toward the voice. The smoke was still thick, but he could make out a feminine figure standing with one leg out the open window. "Do me a favor. Tell Nightwing Angel says hi."

The last of his consciousness faded, and Tim's head thumped against the floor.

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_**A/N: Thanks so much for being patient with me! I start high school tomorrow, but I will update as much as I can. Please keep reviewing!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Hello, my wonderful readers! Thank you for the great reviews, you guys rock! And also thank you for being so incredibly patient with me. This chapter was a hard one for me to write. Here's chapter four!**_

_**Warnings: a couple of swear words. Other than that, I don't think so.  
**_

_**Shoutout to Broken. Bird. Nightingale, thanks for sticking with the story, you've been a consistent reviewer. And in response to your question… just wait and see :).**_

* * *

Nightwing sat down on the soft green couch in the recreation room and turned the TV on. The screen flickered to life, the lights dancing on the walls and sound blaring through the speakers. He turned down the volume and changed the channel to the news, cracking open a bottle of soda. It hissed as the carbon dioxide was released, and he took a sip, relishing in the cool taste rolling on his tongue. He replaced the cap and absently began reading the label as an urgent news report came up on the screen. "This just in, twelve members of the notorious gang Intergang were found dead tonight in what appears to be an all out brawl with members of a rival gang."

Dick shook his head, black hair falling in his eyes. Another gang fight? This was what, the fourth one in three days? He took another sip and returned his attention to the news as a mugshot flashed onto the screen. "Intergang's top operative Ugly was discovered bleeding to death in an alley-"

Nightwing spewed soda. Ugly?! What the hell happened? He sent Robin and his squad, not a group of trained assasins with murder on the mind! At that thought his sapphire eyes got wide under his mask. Robin. Oh _shit_. If those people, whoever they were, had been so ruthless to street thugs, he doubted they had left the squad alone. He sprung lightly to his feet and sprinted in the direction of the hanger, pressing his comm. "Batgirl, Superboy, meet me in Hanger Bay 2,now."

"Roger that," came Batgirl's voice.

"On my way."

Nightwing nodded to himself, turning off his comm as he poured on more speed. He skidded to a halt, mentally cursing at the empty hanger before him. _Duh!_ He let Robin take the bioship. The ebony sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as Batgirl and Superboy darted into the room. The Kryptonian glanced around the empty bay. "Where's the bioship?"

"Robin took it on a mission. Go get the Sphere, it's the fastest thing left."

Connor nodded and ran off the get Sphere, leaving the two detectives alone. Barbra set her hands on her hips. "So what's up?"

Dick glanced at his redhead girlfriend. "Tim."

Her face immediately became concerned, a hint of fear bubbling up in her eyes. "What? Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure. I sent him with Karen and Jaime to an Intergang drug meet- Kobra Venom. I just saw a news report that all the members at the meet turned up dead on the spot."

"And the squad?"

"Wasn't mentioned. I just have a feeling Babs. And the last time I had a feeling…"

Barbra set a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of memories. "Don't worry, Dick. We'll figure it out."

The 19-year-old shot her a grateful look as Superboy came back in, Sphere already in flight mode behind him. "Let's go."

Nightwing vaulted into the pilot seat, the familiar controls buzzing under his nimble fingers. The other two leapt into the available seats, and they took off into the starry night sky.

* * *

They touched down behind the building that the squad had been watching from. Carefully they snuck through the police line and into the abandoned apartment complex. "How do we find which room they're in?" Barbra asked once they were out of earshot.

"Check the apartment with windows facing that side of the street. Robin's smart, he'd go for one of the upper levels with a good vantage point for surveillance. Split up; each person take two floors, starting with the fifth. It's a ten floor building, fifth floor is the lowest he would even think about going. Keep in touch via comm link. Batgirl, you take floors five and six. Superboy, take seven and eight. I'll tackle nine and ten. Let's move."

Batgirl and Superboy nodded in affirmation and ran toward the back stairs. Nightwing couldn't help but roll his eyes at his team's over exuberance and stepped into the elevator right next to the stairs, which was oddly enough was still in good working order. In moments he was at the ninth floor, and began his explorations.

He spent about fifteen minutes on each floor and sighed, rubbing his eyes. That was thirty minutes he could have used better. Maybe he got lucky and one of him teammates found something helpful. He touched the communicator wedged in his ear. "Superboy, Batgirl, anything?"

"Nothing on seven, still working on eight."

"I got nothing on five, about a quarter of the way through six. Don't worry, 'Wing. We will find them."

Dick nodded to no one in particular and turned off his comm. His eyes wandered out the window and fixed on a teen driving with his dad down the street. It reminded him of the last time his sister drove the Batmobile before her murder…

* * *

_Sweet feminine laughter rang through the gloomy darkness on the Batcave. A blur of crisp white and inky blue whipped past Dick, her cape gently smacking against his ankles. He watched the figure race toward Batman, who held out a set of keys to her. She snatched the jingling metal and beamed at her father. He smiled as she sprinted toward the car and whooped with joy as she leapt into the drivers seat. He really needed to let her drive more often._

_"Pick up the pace, boys. I've been waiting to do this all day long."_

_Bruce's deep chuckles and Dick's light cackles mixed and rang through the cave like hymns through a church. Robin jumped in the backseat and Batman sat shotgun. The teenage girl pressed a button, and the roof closed above them. She slid the key into the ignition, and the engine purred to life under the hood._

_"Now check your mirrors."_

_"I know, Bruce."_

_"Buckle your seatbelt."_

_"I got it."_

_"Make sure it's not in reverse."_

_"**DAD!**"_

_She stared at him, and Bruce rolled his eyes. "Fine."_

_She brushed her hair out of her masked eyes and pressed down on the gas. The sleek black car rocketed forward, the engine singing it's lovely song as it raced into the deserted streets of Gotham. She took a fast curve before she settling into a comfortable speed. "I don't do this nearly enough."_

_The playboy next to her grunted, which she took to mean yes. They drove in relative silence until flashing blue and red lights appeared behind them. Her eyes flitted up to the rear view mirror. "Oh you have got to be kidding me." She sighed as she pulled over to the side of the road, the cop car following suit. She gently pushed her locks over her shoulder as she rolled down the window, the sight of a blue uniform and flashing silver colored badge greeting her._

_The cop peered at her, startled by her age. "Are you even old enough to drive?" He asked, incredulous._

_She huffed indignantly. "As a matter of fact, I am nearly sixteen years old and yes, I do have a learners permit. I have all my daytime hours finished and I am perfectly qualified to drive at night."_

_"And who is your supervising driver?"_

_The teen sighed, more at the stupidity of the cop than anything else. Dude, it's the freakin' Batmobile! Who the hell did he think was her supervising driver? She pushed a button on the dashboard, the roof sliding back at her command. She gestured to the Dark Knight sitting next to her. "He is."_

_Even Bruce had to admit it was rather amusing to watch the obviously new officer trip over himself in his surprise and haste. "Oh! Mister Batman sir! I am so sorry! If I had know it was you-"_

_The vigilante growled lowly in the back of his throat, and the cop was gone at a speed that could rival the Flash. Both teens in the car managed to suppress their laughter until the roof had returned to its proper place, whereupon the car exploded into giggles. "Oh my God," the teenage girl said, holding her sides. "I have to do this more often."_

_Her shoulders shook with her mirth, tears of joy collecting in her hidden eyes and getting her mask wet. Dick himself was struggling not to let them run down his cheeks as he gasped between laughs for air. Bruce let a rare smile cross his normally stoic face at his delighted children's antics, but put a calming hand on his daughter's shoulder when the Batsignal lit up the cloudy night sky. She looked up at it and pressed down on the gas pedal, the light illuminating her still smiling face._

* * *

His comm buzzing brought him out of his old memories. Dick shook off his reminiscent daze and blinked a couple times to clear his eyes of the images and pressed the piece of tech in his ear. "Go."

"Nightwing," said Conner's voice. "I found them."

* * *

_**A/N: Cliffie! Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. I'm going to try to update this story more often. Please, please, PLEASE review!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone in the DC universe. I own the OC and the plot.**_

_**A/N: Hey guys! As I've said I'm going to try to update more often. I have a break coming up, so hopefully I'll be able to do some heavy writing work then. For now, enjoy this chapter!**_

_**Special thanks to Broken. Bird. Nightingale for consistently reviewing this story and was the only reviewer for the last chapter. Thanks so much for your valuable feedback!**_

_**Warnings: Lots of cursing, and you can guess who from.**_

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Nightwing raced through the hall, his feet slamming on the old wooden floor that creaked ominously under him. It clearly hadn't been put up to the strain of a grown man sprinting on it in a while, not the Nightwing gave a crap. He whipped around a corner and saw Jaime in his Blue Beetle getup, sitting next to the open apartment door and rubbing the back of his head. The ebony darted forward and squatted next to the younger teen, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?"

Blue Beetle looked at his leader and nodded. "Si, hermano. Head hurts, but I'll live."

Dick patted his shoulder and stood back up, entering the room. An old chair was kicked over, but other than that no furniture in the room seemed out of place. Batgirl was on his immediate left, helping Bumblebee stand up and leaning her up against the wall. Karen looked dazed, but otherwise fine. What worried the teenage vigilante was the young boy Connor was squatting next to.

There wasn't any doubt it was Timmy. Dick stepped forward and knelt next to his little brother, gently brushing ebony locks out of the boy's masked eyes. He ran his gloved fingers affectionately across his cheek and looked up at Superboy, asking a silent question. The Krypotonian's face was surprisingly calm given the situation. "No broken bones. A couple of bruised ribs, minor concussion. He'll be fine."

Nightwing nodded in thanks, grateful for the clone's x-ray vision. He gently picked up his baby brother in a bridal carry and stood, feeling all eyes in the room lock on him, waiting for him to issue orders. Oh the pressures of being leader. He started toward the open door, motioning with his head for the others to follow. "Let's go. There's nothing here that won't be when we've had time to regroup."

The three conscious heroes nodded and trailed behind their leader, Superboy lending Jaime a hand to help him rise to his feet. Batgirl took a final visual sweep of the apartment before closing the door behind her. Nightwing led them to the bioship, parked behind the building next to the Sphere. "Superboy, take Karen and Jaime on the cycle. Batgirl and I will take Robin in the bioship and meet you at the mountain." The forever sixteen boy nodded in response to his raven haired companion and led the other two members to the Sphere, leaping into the pilot seat where Nightwing had been not too long ago while the other two climbed, albeit a little clumsily, into the other seats. The detectives watched them take off, then entered the Martian ship. Nightwing carfully strapped Tim into a seat, being unable to command the bioship to create a bed for him to lie on like M'gann could. He sat in the seat in the middle and held his hands out to the controls while Batgirl strapped herself in. The spheres glowed under his palms, granting him command of the craft. The familiarity of the controls sent a calming wave through his tense body, his mind sending him back to when he and his sister would, with his Martian teammate's permission, zoom across the Gotham skyline like the world was their own personal playground. Back when everything was the way it should have been. Before everything got so damn confusing…

Dick shook himself out of his sentimental thoughts and lifted the ship over the building, flying through the diamond blanket of the sky. His ebony bangs fell in his eyes as he looked to the horizon, Mt. Justice a speck in the distance. If he tried hard, in his mind's eye he just could make out the form of his big sister sitting directly in front of him, tapping in the console in front of her while she talked to him, particularly about a certain blue eyed magician. The hero smiled silently to himself. Maybe the world was just a little less confusing.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the city, two vigilantes dropped through an apartment window in yet another abandoned apartment complex. Both were shrouded in shadows as they moved silently through the apartment. "Are you ready to leave?" The man asked.

She glanced up at him. "Yeah. Tomorrow morning we're gone." She tripped over a crack in the floor and threw out her arms to balance herself. The building had obviously been poorly taken care of before it was abandoned. _'Seriously, what's is with this city and these goddamned abandoned buildings? It almost as bad as Gotham, and that's saying something.'_ A sharp twinge of pain brought her back to the present. She winced and touched a hand to her arm, the blood oozing from the gunshot graze staining the pads of her fingers. The man glanced at her crimson fingertips. "Sit down. I'll take care of it."

"I'm fine."

"Says the one who's bleeding all over the floor." At her refusal to move he crossed his arms over his chest. "Sometimes you act to fucking much like me." When she still didn't move he growled lowly in the back of his throat, and she rolled her eyes, sitting down on the window sill and holding her arm out.

"Get it the hell over with."

He nodded silently and took out a small first aid kit from under the couch, one of the few things he had yet to pack. He sat next to her on the sill and dribbled rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball. He dabbed it on the bloody wound, trying his damn hardest to be careful for her benefit. She hissed as the stinging liquid touched the open graze. He glanced up at her moonlit face. "Nice job getting hit, by the way."

"Son of a bitch got a lucky shot in." Her hand lightly touched the handle of her kris. "He won't be doing it again."

"I know." He wrapped a bandage around her bicep and tied it off, standing back up when he was done. She stretched her arms above her head and walked casually up to him, lacing her fingers through his and tugging him gently toward the bedroom in the back. "Come on. We're gone before lunch. There's plenty of time between now and we wake up for a few hours sleep. Finishing packing won't take to log, we both travel light And who knows? Maybe after we move you and I can hit the town, our style."

His eyebrows shot up at the last part as he tried to protest that he wasn't tired, but was cut off by his own yawn. She smiled at him. "Come on. I'm tired too."

"You didn't do fuck."

Her face set in playful indignence. "I did just as much as you did and you know it. And for the record, bone's a bitch to cut through."

He drowsily nodded at her statement and lightly kissed her right cheek, allowing her to gently tug him back toward the bedroom, with soft sheets and warm blankets just waiting to wrap them in the warm folds of sleep.

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_**A/N: Sorry if it felt a bit rushed or was a bit too short. For at least the next chapter I'm going to do this same sort of jumping pattern between these two sets of characters as I did for this one. Please review!**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anything from the DC universe. I own the OC.**_

_**A/N: Hey y'all. Thanks for the wonderful reviews, they are encouraging. Here's chapter six!**_

_**Warnings: again, swearing. That's probably going to be a warning for a while, just so you know.**_

* * *

Nightwing gently unstrapped Tim from the seat and picked him up bridal style. Their small group were the only people at the mountain- all the others had plans for the night. Nightwing led the way out of the bioship and met up with the other three vigilantes in front of the hanger. "Bumblebee, Beetle, go home and rest up. It's been a long night, and we'll need you up and ready to go as soon as we can."

"What about Robin?"

"Don't worry, Karen. We'll look after him."

Both of them nodded and headed in the general direction of the zeta tubes, talking quietly to each other. Nightwing glanced at Superboy. "Connor, would you call Mal and let him know we're staying the night?"

The clone obviously didn't like being sent to do such a small task, but he knew better than to push his leader when he was stressed or worried. "Sure." He trudged off to make the phone call, leaving the three Batfamily teens alone. Batgirl brushed her fiery red hair over her shoulder. "What do you want me to do?"

Nightwing thought for a moment and sighed, shoulder slumping slightly in defeat. "I don't know, Babs. I'm just…"

The redhead smiled sympathetically and clapped him on the shoulder. "It's okay, 'Wing. Tim will be fine." The black haired leader nodded distantly, masked eyes still fixed on the little bird cradled in his arms. Barbra kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'll be back soon, Dickie.".

Nightwing watch his girlfriend walk in the same direction that the first two teens had gone in, probably to zeta home and tell Alfred about what happened. His feet lead him to the med bay, where he gently laid his baby brother down on a cot. He didn't hook him up to anything- Superboy had assured him it wasn't bad enough to warrant that- though he did check the little bird's ribs. Black and purple bruises speckled the area like holes in Swiss cheese, but other than that they seemed fine. The son of the Bat replaced Robin's vest and pulled up a rolling chair, the wheels quietly squeaking on the floor. He laced his fingers together and put them under him chin, thoughts a confusing tornado winding in his head. What the heck happened? The squad obviously didn't beat themselves up, and it clearly hadn't been the gang members they'd been sent to apprehend. If it had been the trio of heroes would have been much worse off than bruised ribs and a couple bumps on the head.

Nightwing sighed and rubbed the back of his head, his midnight hair threading through his fingers. He would have to wait until Tim woke up to get the story. Neither Karen nor Jaime had seen anything after the smoke grenade went off, at least that's what they said when he talked to them over the comm. All they felt was a blow to the head and after that, nothing. Zip. A part of him knew that he should call Bruce and let him know what had happened, but he pushed it aside. Tim was his adopted son, but better for him to find out when the bird was awake and could explain the situation to the both of them.

Another part of him, the detective part, was screaming at him to get out of the med bay. Recall Batgirl or Superboy and leave Robin with them. Get back to that apartment and find something. _Anything_. Some piece of evidence to crack this case so wide open that he could have gone swimming in it if he wanted. The brother in him pushed the detective back down. No matter what he could, maybe _should_ do, Timmy was still his baby brother. And even if he left him with Babs he knew he would still worry himself into an aneurism. No, he wasn't leaving this chair until Tim woke up. Not right after he'd been hurt right under his nose.

The last Grayson sighed and rested his elbow on the arm on the chair. He cradled the side of his head with his right hand, tracing the outline of his temple and twisting strands of jet black hair in between his fingertips. _'I wonder if this is how Bruce feels most of the time,'_ he wondered to himself. _'Different sides always warring for his attention.'_ His nimble fingers found the edge of his mask and carefully worked themselves under the seal. He carefully peeled it off, separating it from his skin like a band-aid. Once his own was off he traced the outline of Tim's own before gently prying it off his face. He smiled to himself. 'He's looks so cute when he's out.'

A wave of weariness washed over him as his eyelids drooped over his azure eyes. God, what was the time? He glanced at the small clock built into his gauntlet. 5:30 in the morning. Dick dropped his head and groaned. The last time he slept he didn't get a lot of it, and he hadn't had a break since lunch. The resonating warmth of the med bay was a soothing lull to his tired body, calling him to sleep. By the time Batgirl returned from Wayne Manor the ebony haired leader was already out like a light.

* * *

At the same time across Happy Harbor an alarm clock was ringing its shrill annoying tune. It was promptly grabbed off the bedside table and hurled at the wall, plastic cracking as the whole device broke apart, silencing the sound. The thrower put his hand behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the structure. A warm hand found its way to his bare chest and rested just over his heart, his pulse drumming against her fingers. You know," a soft, sleepy voice said, "you could just turn it off instead of throwing it at a wall."

"Throwing things is more fun."

"Tell that to the wall." He glanced at the girl curled up on the bed next to him. The blanket had settled in with the curves of her body, outlining her form. She'd gone to bed casual: just a pair of long yoga pants and a sports bra. Her head was resting partly on his shoulder and partly on his chest, her curls tickling the skin of his neck.

"Well walls can't complain, so I don't give a fuck."

"Normally I would argue with you, because I'm just that stubborn, but I'm too tired for that. Now shut up, pillows don't talk."

He chuckled and light kissed her forehead, his tone softening. She tended to have that effect in him. "We have to get up, babe, if we're gonna get in Gotham under the Bat's nose."

She groaned and rolled over on her stomach, her head resting right above his heart. She listened to the steady beating in his chest. "I know. But if you me up after three hours of sleep I can damn well assure you it's a lost cause."

He sighed to himself and ghosted his hand over her side. "If you want something done you have to do it yourself."

She yelped when he flipped her over on her back and scooped her up, cradling her to his chest. He stood from the bed and entered the living room, walking to the couch and dumping her unceremoniously on the cheap blue furniture. She tossed her hair out of her eyes and laughed, sparkling eyes meeting his emerald green ones. "Okay okay. I'm up." She drew her legs over the side and stood, making her way toward the kitchen. "What do you want for breakfast?"

His smile faltered slightly. "We need to finish packing."

She stopped in the doorway. God, she hated these things. They weren't fights, but they weren't discussions either. "We're not gonna get anywhere if we don't eat something. Nobody can drive hungry."

The youth wavered, mentally weighing his options. They needed to pack up and leave. It wasn't a long drive to Gotham, but they needed to get set up if they had even a hope of going out at night. But, his partner had a point. He had tried to drive hungry, and it only led to more danger and less focus. "We don't have time to eat. We need to go."

She sighed and turned to face him, leaning against the door frame. "How about this: I'll get out some cereal and you can eat it while you pack."

"And you will…?"

"I'm done packing. I'll just walk around and annoy the shit out of you."

"Wonderful."

"Isn't it?"

He pushed her back into the kitchen, and she smiled over her shoulder at him. She took out two paper bowls and plastic spoons, pouring the last of the cereal from the box and into the bowls. While she worked her companion bustled about, picking up anything belonging to them that hadn't been packed. She handed him a bowl and he ate while he stuffed the objects into their two bags. After he finished his breakfast he stored the solitary bags on his motorcycle and returned to the apartment. He leaned in the doorway, his helmet and hers in his hands. "You ready?"

She emerged from the bedroom, now decked in a crisp white shirt and light grey jacket. She took her helmet from his outstretched hand and laced her fingers through his. "Yeah. Let's roll." The duo went down the rickety old stairs and out to the alley behind the building. The man kicked his leg over the body and started the bike, the engines roaring to life as he revved it. His partner got on behind him and held onto his waist, kicking the kickstand out. The pair raced off, heading straight for Gotham City.

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**_A/N: That's all for now, folks! Please review!_**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone in the DC universe. I do own the OC and plot.**_

_**A/N: Hey guys! I'm glad that you guys are enjoying this, but I would really appreciate it if more of you would leave a review after reading a chapter. I have only received one review for each chapter for the last three chapters. Reviews keep me going, so please do leave them, even just a simple one. Here's chapter seven for you.**_

_**Thanks to Broken. Bird. Nightingale, who has review every chapter of this story. The support is truly appreciated.**_

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"Dick?" The last of the Flying Grayson's felt someone shaking his shoulder. "Hey Wingding, wake up."

Nightwing cracked opened his bleary sapphire eyes to see his girlfriend leaning over him, fiery red locks falling in her eyes. "Babs? Wha-?"

Then he heard sheets quietly rustling and a low groan. "Dick?"

His eyes flitted to where the weak voice had come from. A vibrant grin splits across his face as his baby brother pushed himself into a sitting position. "Tim!" He threw his arms around the young teen and held him to his chest, mindful of the boy's sensitive ribs. Tim tensed up for a moment, then awkwardly hugged him back.

"Easy there, big brother."

Barbra set a hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

Dick released him from the hug and sat down on the bed next to him as Tim shrugged. "Head feels like someone decided it would make a good nail and they would be the hammer. Ribs are a little on the tender side, but all things considering I'm fine."

"Your sure? Superboy said you had a minor concussion and bruised ribs. Does anything else feel wrong?"

The younger ebony stopped for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "No." His stomach growled like a feral animal, and he pressed a hand over the unruly organ. "Can I eat now?"

The two older teens laughed and handed him a light snack, not wanting to upset his stomach. As Tim munched happily on a bag of corn chips, Dick glanced at his girlfriend and shifted. "So Tim," he started slowly. "What exactly do you remember?"

His expression sobered a bit while he continued to eat. "There's not much to remember. We were about to move out and break up the meeting when someone threw a smoke bomb. I heard Bumblebee and Beetle- hey, where are they? Are they hurt?"

"They went home to rest. They're fine, just a couple bumps and bruises. As you were saying."

"Right. Sorry. I heard them grunt and then them hitting the ground. Someone tried to hit me with a bo, but I blocked. I tried to counter attack, but they disappeared. The next thing I know I'm lying on my stomach and someone is pushing me down into the floor." He touched his free hand to his neck, tracing an area just beneath his chin. "It was a guy. He called me "Replacement" and held a knife to my throat."

Nightwing sucked in a breath at the knife detail, causing Barbra to shoot a look at him warily while Tim continued. "There was a girl there too. She told him to back off, that their target was there and she wouldn't be able to move until he was ready. He slammed my head into the floor and left, then she followed. After that everything is blank."

The raven haired acrobat nodded, his stunning azure eyes flitting to Barbra. "That's really good, Tim. Your recall has been improving."

The younger teen beamed at his adopted brother. "Thanks, Dick." A yawn broke free from his smiling lips, and he quickly moved his hand to cover it. The former Boy Wonder noticed anyway and clapped his sibling, albeit carefully, on the back.

"Get some sleep, Tim. You've really helped."

The boy nodded and set his head back on the pillow, concealing his blue eyes behind his lids. Dick nodded and shifted off the bed and gestures to Barbra, leading her to the door. He held it open for her like the gentlemen he was, and ushered her out of the room. He was about to follow when he heard Tim say, "Dick."

The leader turned back to face Robin, who's eyes were slightly glazed over with sleep. "She said to give you a message." He rubbed his eyes, racking his brain to try to remember through the haze of the concussion. "She said… she said to tell you that Angel says hello."

Dick's brow furrowed, the name provoking a tingling in the back of his mind. "Angel…. Why does that sound familiar?"

Tim shrugged and yawned again, curling up under the blankets Dick had put him under. His big brother smiled at the picture before him, wishing for a camera to take a picture. He turned off the lights and stepped through the doorway. "Night, Timmy." He said as he shut the door silently behind him. Now thy he knew his baby brother was okay his face set in determination. Now he knew Tim's squad hadn't hurt anyone, he just had to find the people who did. And the first place to start was back at that apartment.

* * *

Motorcycle engines roared through the streets of Gotham. For the most part there was no one out and about, with the exception of the two people on the motorcycle. The one in the back leaned forward and whispered in her partner's ear. "Next block. Tall brick building."

He slowed down a little and gestured to the towering red structures surrounding the streets. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

She smiled behind her helmet and gently slapped the back of his head. "Shut the hell up."

He snickered and kept driving, ghosting a hand briefly over her thigh before returning it to the handle bars. She snaked her hands up to his chest and rubbed the material of his jacket between her fingers. They drove in relative silence until he pulled over next to a building that was a little taller than the rest and had a sign with the words "Gotham Apartment Complex" posted in front of the door. He pushed up the visor of his helmet and grinned cheekily at his companion. "Found it."

She rolled her eyes behind the shiny black plastic of the visor. "Congratu-fucking-lations."

He chuckled and parked the motorcycle, nudging the kickstand into place with his foot. She kicked her leg up and unstrapped their bags from the vehicle. He took his from her and the duo entered the building. They were greeted by a man dressed rather sloppily sitting at the front desk, in the midst of dozing. The tag hanging loosely from his greasy white shirt read 'Bob'. He snorted when he heard her wedge boots clicking quietly on the old wood floor, drool dribbling down his chin. If he was very surprised to have two people come in with motorcycle helmets tucked under their arms and only two small bags between them he didn't let on. He grinned like a maniac at them -or more accurately, at her- and leaned over the desk. "Well hello there, you sweet little thing. I assume you were the young lady I spoke with on the phone."

She smiled, trying hard to keep the digits off her face. The guy reeked of cheeseburgers and cheap cigarettes covered by even cheaper cologne. "Yes sit." She passed Bob a few green bills, and was handed a small key on a red key chain. His hand reached out suddenly and latched on to hers.

"You are even lovelier in person than you sounded on the phone. Come to the back, and I can show how a real king lives in this city."

Her companion snarled at Bob and shoved her behind him, slamming a knife into the wood of the desk between the spread fingers of the sleazy man. "Fuck off." He hissed.

He yanked the blade out of the wood and snatched her hand, picking up his bag with the other. He lead her up the ratty old staircase, only halting in front of their new apartment. She unlocked the door and twisted the doorknob the best she could, using the hand with the strap of her bag in it as her other hand was still clutched in the man's iron grip. She nudged it open and then kicked it closed after they were in the room. The apartment was decent sized, with furniture much nicer than the building would let on. The kitchen was off to their immediate left, while the bedroom was a bit farther down on the right. A bathroom was connected to the bedroom, and there was another one in the corner of the room. A couch and coffee table sat in front of a TV, and there was a small closet next to the door. He released his partner's hand and dropped his bag next to the door, carding his fingers through his black hair. He muttered something under his breath, causing her to glance at him as she began unpacking their things. "What was that?"

He spoken up a little. "Damn little piece of shit downstairs."

"I know." She reached into his bag and pulled out a helmet. She ran her fingers over the smooth, flawless red surface. "But look on the bright side." She met the angry emerald eyes of Jason Todd. "You can take out all your frustrations tonight."

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**_A/N: Hope y'all liked the chapter! Next one may be a little bit late, but do keep an eye out. For now, please review!_**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone in the DC Universe. I own the OC and the plot.**_

_**A/N: THANK YOU GUYS SO FREAKIN' MUCH! I came home from a party the day I posted the last chapter and there were like seven reviews! You guys are absolutely amazing! Here's chapter eight!**_

_**Warnings: cursing. This should be nothing new by now.**_

* * *

Nightwing moved stealthily from the window into the apartment he had been in just a few hours before. His feet made no sound on the wooden boards of the floor. Daylight streamed in through the dusty and broken panes of glass, lighting up the room and casting shadows in the corners. Under normal circumstances he might wait until nightfall to scour the room for any clues it might yield, but these people had made it personal by attacking his little brother. He would not wait until dusk.

The layer of dust on the floor did little to help him. He could only make out a few distinct tread patterns, all belonging to himself or one of his teammates. There were no scraps of fabric left behind on any of the sharp edges, no fingerprints, just nothing. The raven haired acrobat growled in frustration, about to punch a wall when a small flash of white in the corner caught his eye. He made his way over and picked up a white envelope, his name- his real name- written in neat calligraphy on the front. He opened it and unfolded the paper within, sapphire eyes scanning the sheet.

_Dear Nightwing,_

_I presume if you are reading this than Robin has regained consciousness. You wouldn't be here if he wasn't up and at the races. He's a good kid; Bruce made a good choice. Needs to work on his fighting though: you would think that would have been an emphasis after last time. You remember last time, right Dickie-bird? It's certainly not something you forget. One way or another, I'm not writing this to ask about Timmy, so I'll cut to the chase. Keep out of it. This is bigger than you could imagine, and the last thing you need is for another member of your team to get hurt. And trust me, if they get in our way, they **will** get hurt. So stay out of our way._

_Angel_

_P.S. - Keep your birdie close. I'm not so sure my partner will be able to restrain himself next time._

Nightwing read the message over and over, studying the stylized 'A' on her name. Angel was obviously not her real name, and whoever she was, she had knowledge of his identity. How did she know that? Did he know her from somewhere? Was she and ally turned rogue. He sat down on the couch, plumes of dust rising from the worn cushions. She told him to keep Robin close. What if they came after him again? He knew Tim was safe at the mountain; was the newest Boy Wonder safe anywhere else? Dick set the letter in the old table and ran his fingers through his hair, massaging the back of his neck. First Tim, now this mysterious letter. At what point did his life decide to go Loony Tunes?

He glanced up at the window, the Happy Harbor skyline looking hazy and faded through the dusty panes. A broken one caught his attention, the rough edge lined with crimson. He cocked his head to the side and rose from his seat, walking toward the window. He carefully removed the glass and turned it in his fingers, smiling. He had the DNA of one of them. He collected the letter and put the pane in a plastic bag, tucking both into his belt before leaving. The sooner he got to Mt. Justice the sooner he could zeta to the Batcave, and the sooner he got answers.

* * *

It was later that same day in Gotham. The sun was just beginning to set, casting beautiful shades of pink and gold across the sky. Steam billowed out from under the bathroom door of the apartment, filling the place with a steamy hot feeling. A young girl hummed absentmindedly to herself as she stirred a pot of red sauce, the rich aroma wafting up to meet her. A few minutes later she heard the water turn off, then a door opening. Before long there were warm arms wrapped around her waist, a slightly damp cheek brushing hers as he leaned down. "Smells good."

"It's my goal for it to taste good, too." She spooned out a little bit and held it too his lips, laughing under her breath when he made a face at how hot it was. He swallowed it and smiled at her.

"Perfect. How do you cook like this?

"I used to help make dinner." She gently moved his arms away and walked over toward the other pot on the stove, peering into the boiling water. "Now go put a shirt on, we can eat in the den."

He chuckled and left her to finish cooking their dinner while she took out a pair of plates. She spooned out some pasta with the red sauce and turned off the stove, balancing the two plates as she entered the den. The TV was on, news reports piercing the otherwise quiet air through the speakers. She set the plates down on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen, grabbing a pair of bottles out of the refrigerator. She walked back, hearing the reporter on the TV say, "Still no development in the supposed gang fight in an Happy Harbor alley last night that left twelve people dead."

She nearly dropped the two bottles in her surprise as she stared at the screen. She distantly set them down on the table and put her hands on her hips. "Jason, get in here!"

Footsteps, then said male entered the room. "What's up?"

His partner pointed to the screen, and Jason read the banner along the bottoms. His eyes widened, and he met her eyes as she spoke. "I know for a fact we only killed one of them. The other eleven were alive when we left." Dinner forgotten, she raced into the bedroom and came back with a laptop, immediately sitting on the couch and typing furiously. Jason continued to think, staring the wall in his contemplation. 'I wonder…'

"I've got the image." He came behind her and looked at the still frame on her computer. He studied the picture, taking in every detail. His eyes narrowed, whispering a quiet "What the fucking hell?" He tapped a spot on the screen. "Zoom in right there."

She did so, highlighting the area and enlarging it. "Holy shit." She murmured. "Is that… a sword?"

He nodded and stood up, his fists clenched as he walked to their bedroom. He returned with their respective nighttime wear. "Eat quickly. Tonight we fly."

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**_A/N: I'm sorry that this is a day late, but I'm really pressed for time at the moment. Anyway, please PLEASE review!_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice or anyone from the DC Universe. I own the OC and plot.**_

_**A/N: I am so incredibly sorry! I know I've pretty much fallen off the map but I hit writers block the size of Mount Everest with this one. And I've been really busy lately with school and Drivers Ed and learning new music. But here's a new chapter for you at long last, and I pray I've done a decent job. The jumping POV's will be a little different this time.**_

_**Warnings: I've said it before and I'll say it again. Cursing.**_

* * *

The light of the Batcave computer lit up Nightwing's masked face as he paced before the massive screen. The system had the largest database of DNA anywhere, perfect to run his sample against. He'd had it running most of the day, yet there still hadn't been any match found. He blew out a gusty sigh and plopped down in the fine leather chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Once he knew who she was, then what? Was he going to threaten her civilian identity, assuming he could even find her? She was proving herself pretty damn hard to find when she didn't want to be found. Was he going to try to plant a tracker on her? What was the point if he wouldn't be able to even find her?

He leaned his head back into the soft cushion, closing his eyes. He was looking for the person who hurt his baby brother. That was why he was trying so hard. Even if he couldn't track her down, he could at least say he knew who had hurt the squad and he could deal with her if she ever popped up again. Because _no one_ touched his siblings. **Ever**.

_Cold air whipped through his hair as he raced along the Gotham rooftops. A flash of white and blue alerted him to his sister's presence as they ran in the direction of one of the Gotham banks. An alarm on their belts told them there was a robbery in progress. What better way to prove to Batman that they could handle their own when he wasn't around? When they reached the place they stopped, squatting on the edge of the roof of the neighboring building. They watched a small group of people come out of the back door, bags of money slung over their broad shoulders. She gave the signal, and they jumped down in front of the criminals. A couple of them jumped, but the others dropped their bags and ran at them with baseball bats and crowbars._

_He heard her laugh and her shoes clicking on the pavement, then and abrupt snapping and a yell of agony. One of the robbers stumbled forward, blood pouring from his newly broken nose, courtesy of her. Robin leapt into action, throwing half a dozen smoke bombs as he simultaneously socked another robber in the face, ignoring the stream of cuss words pouring from the criminal's mouth. The bombs exploded, grey smoke flooding the alley. The pair of vigilante's moved silently through the smog, criminals falling left and right. Soon they had them all on the ground, unconscious or too scared to move. Or at least he thought they did._

_It wasn't until he heard a strangled scream that he turned around. Through the diminishing smoke he could see a stocky older man holding his sister by the hair and pressing a switch blade to her throat. A small stream of blood trickled slowly down her neck._

_Robin saw red. He wasn't even aware of what he did, but the next thing he knew he was on top of the man, knife thrown to the side, his sister out of sight, and driving fist after angry fist into the criminals face._

_He didn't stop until a hand caught him around the wrist, an arm locking under his arms and around his chest and dragging him backwards. He struggled until a familiar voice hissed in his ear. "Stop fighting, it's just me!"_

_Robin stilled, then slumped into familiar arms. They guided him gently to the fire escape, which he followed her up to the rooftop. He started to walk away until he heard her call him. "Dick."_

_He stopped, staring at his gloves. His dirty, blood spattered gloves. He turned slowly to face her, eyes on the ground. Soon her shoes came into view, warm hands rubbing his shoulders. "Look at me, little bird."_

_He was slow to oblige, but when he finally made it up to her face he found she had pulled her mask down, giving him clear view of her dark blue eyes. She smiled and lightly brushed his cheek with the back of the knuckles. "Thank you. You were very brave today, and I'm glad you're my little bird." The weight of what he'd done hit to the man below them in the alley him like a brick to the gut, and before he knew what happened he was in her arms, cold and utterly alone together on a rooftop. Teardrops rose unbidden in his eyes, and he snuggled his face into the front of her costume. Her inky blue cape wrapped around them both in the wind as she smoothed his hair back from his face, kissing the top of his head. "My little solider. My little Robin."_

_And not for the last time Dick Grayson wept in the warm embrace of his big sister, his protector, his guardian angel._

Nightwing pulled himself out of his dredged up memories, trying to clear all images of her from his head. Why did his mind keep going back to her so much? Sure he thought about her all the time, but the memories had never been so overpowering before, never drenched him so completely in the sound of her voice, the music of her laughter and the unspoken eloquence she carried with her. He missed her… God knows he missed her. But she was dead, still cold in the ground, stuck in a box six feet under while he went about his business as normal. It just wasn't fair… she had so much ahead of her, so much life… what gave two criminal the right to take that away, steal that chance away from her? She had so much more coming to her, so many things she could have achieved if they had only left her be. Dick laid his head down on the pillow made by his arms, letting his eyes drift shut. Maybe if he just closed his eyes for a little bit, he could pretend… pretend he could still feel her hands carding through his hair… still smell the mango shampoo she used… hear her call his name… Maybe, just for a moment, he could pretend he was still her innocent baby brother, still her perfect solider… still her little Robin.

* * *

The streetlights far below flickered, their sickly yellow light casting eerie shadows everywhere you looked. Anything could behind that thin curtain of darkness: a rapist stalking the next pretty girl, an average thug stalking waiting for a potential target, a psychotic clown with a bazooka. This particular night it seemed to be none of the above as a single caped crusader emerged from the black, all muscle and capes and glares that could chill a room by ten degrees. He was silent as he shot off a grappling hook, flying through the air with grace rivaled only by his first partner. He was determined, and nothing could stand in the man's way when he was determined.

Nightwing had called him at the Watchtower earlier and informed him of what had happened to Robin. He assured his mentor that the youngest member of the family was perfectly fine, that the worst of his injuries was wounded pride, and that he had a DNA sample he was running. That was fine: he could do that. Batman was more interested in the happenings in the alley across the road. Whoever attack the Squad and whoever murdered the Intergang members were likely the same person, or people given that it was extremely unlikely one person had managed that without help. Perhaps the police missed something: they usually did. And that lead him here, stalking the rooftops of Happy Harbor that the creepy Bat he was. It didn't take him too long to reach the area: it was rather easy to find with all the yellow police caution tape and detour signs directing cars away from the area. When he got there he noticed a black motorcycle he'd never seen before sitting at the curb inside the police tape. His eyes narrowed. '_It appears someone had the same idea…_'

* * *

The alley was still caked in dried blood and gore when Jason and his partner pulled up to the crime scene. The police had long since left, satisfied with taping off the alley until they returned the next morning. The two vigilantes casually stepped over the tape like it wasn't even there and entered, carefully avoiding the overlapping outlines of various bodies. She made a face at the ever present aroma of flesh and intestines. "_God_. Smells like a fucking slaughterhouse."

"That's 'cause it was."

She snickered a bit as she meticulously studied the wall, traing the outline of the bricks with gloved fingertips. "That was a bit morbid, don't you think Jay?"

A snort. "Whatever. Get back to work."

She mock saluted, though she knew he couldn't see her. "Sir yes sir "

Fifteen minutes of careful search revealed absolutely nothing but a switchblade belonging to one of the men that he'd never gotten the chance to use and a sock so drenched with blood it could have been dyed crimson. The girl put her hands on her hips, pebbles shifting under her high heeled shoes. "There's nothing here."

Jason stood from the crouch he had been in and brushed off his pants. "Let's book." They were just about to leave when she stopped him suddenly. "What are you-"

"Ssh!" She cut him off. She listened for a moment, the whispered, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" He whispered back. Then he heard a faint clinking sound, like two beer bottles clanking together.

"That." She answered. Two pairs of observant eyes scanned the alley until they settled on a dumpster with just enough room for a person to hide behind. She nodded, an unspoken message between them as they moved slowly forward, barely making a sound on the gravel ground. When they reached it Jason shoved it away while she drew the gun at her waist, holding it steadily on the person in front of them. They were met with a quivering thug, dirty, bloody, and looking like he was ready to shit himself. She slowly lowered her weapon and shot a smile in Jason's direction. "Told you there were more than twelve."

The gunman swallowed and tried his hardest to sound tough. "I won't talk."

She laugh, a creepy chuckle that sent shivers down his spine. She advanced menacingly, cracking her knuckles as she went. "Oh, but you will. You simply require the proper… motivation."

The man's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to scream when the shadow of two tell-tale bat ears fell into the alley. She whipped her head around to the figure outlined in the slivers of moonlight showing through the clouds, growling in the back of her throat. "Son of a bitch." She turned back to her partner. "I'll deal with him. Do a girl a favor and give this guy," she gestured to the thug, "some motivation."

Jason grinned. "With pleasure."

She only nodded in response before scaling the fire escape on the building on the other side of the alley, leaving the two men alone.

* * *

Batman knew something was off when the girl left, so the gunshots weren't exactly unexpected. He dodged each one with precision, never allowing them to come within more than a foot. He tried throwing a few batarangs, by they were apparently dodged when the hail of lead began to come from a different angle. Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. For a moment there was nothing before a slender knife came whipping out of nowhere. Bruce ducked, and the metal blade imbedded itself in the brick where his head had been a moment before.

It was a well made weapon, light and easy to carry. The handle was black, stainless steel metal sleeved in a black rubber cover perfect for gripping before throwing. The blade itself was six solid inches of stainless steel, polished to perfection. The edge was fine and sharp: he could probably have shaved with it if he tried and done a pretty good job with it too. On the end, nailed to the wall by the blade, was a small card covered in words written in straight lines with black ink. He tore the note off the end and scanned the neat script.

_Another birdie, huh Brucie? You want this one dead too? He wasn't nearly as much fun, may want to pick up the pace on the kid's fighting training, but I guess I can't complain. Thugs don't exactly present much of a challenge. But you're probably more curious about who I am, aren't you? Meet me at the old chemical plant. I know you know where I'm talking about. You just might get some answers._

_P.S. - Seriously, the kid was decent, but not good enough. Pick up the slack, old man. Last thing Gotham needs is another dead hero._

Bruce must have read the note three times before he finally folded it and stashed it in his belt. He looked back up and for a split second when the clouds split, silver moonlight highlighted a feminine figure on the other rooftop. And just as soon as she was there, she was gone. For a moment he just stood before turning on his heel and, which a whirl of his cape, disappearing once again into the night.

* * *

**_A/N: Again apologies for being so late, I wish I could have done this sooner, but c'est la vie. Please leave your thoughts and opinions in a review. And, if it affects your decision to review at all, it's also my birthday…_**


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